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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826539">Actions and Words</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_lollipops_and/pseuds/Sunshine_lollipops_and'>Sunshine_lollipops_and</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crew as Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:12:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_lollipops_and/pseuds/Sunshine_lollipops_and</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jim's actions spoke louder than his words, and one time his crew's spoke even louder.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An angstier one today, but I hope you'll enjoy it :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I don't own ST :)</p>
<hr/><p>Some days were just supposed to be shit.</p><p>Call him a pessimist, but Leonard knew that there were some times when you had to accept a shitty set of circumstances, and wait for them to blow over, as opposed to wasting energy trying to force a better mood.</p><p>Leonard had moved on from blaming himself for his father's death, mostly thanks to the infinite, forceful common sense of his Mom. And together, they'd managed to work through the brunt of the grief rather healthily, if he did say so himself, keeping eachother from burying themselves in work or wallowing. But that didn't mean the anniversary of his death didn't still sit so heavily on Leonard he felt like his chest might explode.</p><p>He's called his Mom in the morning, of course, and then squared his jaw in preparation for the notoriously nightmarish twelve hour emergency department shift. Which had gone, of course, awfully. Some dumbass had said the q word an hour or two in, and from then on they'd been flooded with critical cases from a shuttle crash. Leonard operated on three of the patients. One made it. Sure, he'd taken the most critical cases, and they'd been triaged as having a low chance, but that didn't stop it from sinking his mood further through the floor.</p><p>Two hours late, Leonard was walking back to his apartment, at which point the sky decided it'd be freaking hilarious to start pissing rain. Fantastic.</p><p>Anyway, he had cleared his schedule this evening, told Jim he was working night shift, and had a bottle of whiskey waiting for him. People said drinking alone was a loner thing, but that had never stopped Leonard.</p><p>Which is why he was surprised to unlock the door to his apartment, to be greeted with cheery singing and the smell of fresh cooking. A blonde head appeared from round the corner. For fucks sake.</p><p>"Bones," he smiled, hands raised in defence, "I know you made that bullshit about night shift up so I'd leave you alone for a minute, but I.. I though you could use some company tonight."</p><p>He was flashing his signature cheeky grin, but there was a spark of empathy in his eyes that pacified Leonard just enough so as to not tell him to piss off and leave him in peace.</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>"I'm gonna go have a shower," he muttered, dropping his bag and making his way to the bathroom, trying to hide the rise of an unwelcome emotion in his throat.</p><p>"Sure," Jim smiled easily back, "dinner in twenty minutes."</p><p>That was funny enough in itself, Leonard mused, five minutes later in the shower. Jim was a shocking cook, with an impressive talent for butchering even the simplest recipe. By the smell of it though, the only things he'd managed to ruin was Leonard's evening plans.</p><p>At the sound of a kitchen timer, Leonard forced himself out of his safe haven, from under the numbing pressure and heat of the shower, dressing quickly, and stepping out of the steamy bathroom.</p><p>Jim was emerging from the kitchen, a plate in either hand, still singing to himself. He was a mess, of course, because Jim Kirk never did anything without his characteristic dramatics, and in this case, that meant all sorts of ingredients and sauces smeared all over his cadet reds, and an actual piece of spaghetti in his hair. He virtually bounced over to the table, face lighting up in a megawatt smile when he spotted Leonard.</p><p>"There ya go, Bones," he said as he laid the plates out on the table, "spaghetti bolognese." He caught the look on Leonard's face. "You do like spaghetti, right?"</p><p>Leonard could have laughed out loud at the apprehension with which Jim had interpreted his pleased surprised.</p><p>"Yeah Jim, it's one of my favourites." Jim visibly deflated in relief.</p><p>One bite from the delicious meal confirmed what Leonard had been suspecting: Jim Kirk had been possessed, because there was no way he'd managed to cook something that tasted so good.</p><p>Jim seemed to catch the thought before he said it.</p><p>"Yeah yeah, I know, I'm a shit cook. Andora's been teaching me, turns out she almost decided to go to culinary school before her dad lost a finger trying to cook this Orion squid. So I've been learning!"</p><p>Andora was Jim's current...girlfriend? If a relationship could be defined so loosely. Leonard also happened to know her as Dr Sh'zhiaval, a colleague he vaguely recognised from Starfleet General (which made accidentally walking in on the two of them going at it even more awkward). Still, the relationship had lasted longer than most, and if she could teach Jim how to not burn toast? They could get married, as far as Leonard was concerned.</p><p>Leonard finished up slowly, letting Jim's stream of babbling fill the silence of the apartment, and stamp down some of the emotion that was threatening to overflow.</p><p>It was just too much. His Dad, then the shitty, shitty shift, and now the man who had in just a year become Leonard's closest friend, taking the time to do all this...</p><p>His Dad used to make the best spaghetti.</p><p>Suddenly Leonard was blinking back tears, vision blurring. A chair scraped from the other side of the table, and god he didn't blame Jim for leaving, hell, anyone would if you just started tearing up like a baby cos of some damn pasta, he-</p><p>A hand rested on his shoulder. Jim, Mr. I-Don't-Deal-With-Emotions-I-Just-Kinda-Pretend-They're-Not-There-And-Hope-They'll-Go-Away, took him firmly with both hands, and drew him into a bone crushing hug.</p><p>Well, who needed dignity anyway.</p><p>Wasn't like Leonard had much left.</p><p>Resting his head on Jim's shoulder, hot tears leaking into cadet uniform, the arms encircling him held on tighter. He let go.</p>
<hr/><p>Time passed. Jim's grip relinquished, and his eyes met Leonard's with the warmest reassurances, so kind it almost ached. What he'd done to deserve this kid, he had no idea.</p><p>He was about to make an embarrassed apology for the outburst, when Jim cut in.</p><p>"Nope. No macho apologies. You're my best friend Bones, and if this is what you need? I'll always be here to give it."</p><p>Tears threatening anew, Leonard swallowed his excuses with a grateful nod, as Jim steered him towards the sofa.</p><p>Leonard let his mind turn off, as Jim flicked onto the TV, selecting some old movie. The lights off, movie playing in the background, Jim's arm around his shoulder, somehow everything seemed a little more ok.</p>
<hr/><p>Leonard woke with a startle to the sunshine streaming in through the open window. He was stretched across the sofa, a blanket tucked around him. The hell?</p><p>The chronometer beeped, and Leonard looked over to see- shit, he'd overslept. His shift had started two hours ago. Shit, shit, shit, a case could've come in, people could be dead just because he'd selfishly slept in, shit shit-</p><p>He dove from the sofa, scrambling for his scrubs, when a note on the coffee table caught his eye.</p><p>
  <em>Hey Bones, convinced Andora to cover your shift (I won't tell you how ;) )I've got classes 'till seven so I'll see you then.</em>
</p><p>That damn kid.</p><p>Breathing a sigh of relief, he sank back into the sofa, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.</p><p>His Dad would've liked Jim.</p>
<hr/><p>He had a peaceful day, yesterday's weight relieved to a manageable level. Pottering around the apartment, a little spring cleaning, and catching up on some reading, by the time seven o'clock rolled round he felt almost whole again. And when Jim burst back through the door again, soaked to the skin from the rain, grinning brightly, and waving a twelve pack of beers? The hole in his heart felt like it had been filled in a little.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading, lots of love! Xxx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi again! This one's set at the end of ST 09, and I hope you like it! I find Spock tricky to write, so any feedback is very helpful ;) Special thank you to the wonderful yel-halansu on Tumblr, who helped with the Vulcan translations! She's got a brilliant Tumblr, and some great fics here on ao3. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Spock."</p><p>Repressing an entirely human sigh of annoyance, Spock turned around.</p><p>The last few days had been.... unprecedentedly trying. His shields were low, his emotional control wavering, the loss of his mother and his entire planet and people had rocked him to his core, that would take no small amount of meditation to work through. The Captain had ordered he take a full eight hours off duty, but if Spock was needed, he would not shirk his duty.</p><p>He had already failed enough in it for one lifetime.</p><p>He pulled his attention back to the present. Acting Captain Kirk was standing shiftily before him. Judging by his posture and appearance, he still had not taken his own advice and sought medical attention, rested, or stopped moving yet.</p><p>"What do you require, Captain?"</p><p>"Nothing, Spock, nothing. Seriously," he added, at the look on Spock's face that he was too exhausted to hide, "I just wanted to..."</p><p>He stepped to the side of the corridor as a yeoman passed, flashing a brief smile at him. He ran a hand through his hair, and then turned back to Spock.</p><p>"Look," he finally managed, "I'm not really great at putting this kind of stuff into words but I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. It was all bullshit, you know that, but it was still wrong, and shitty of me, and-"</p><p>"Captain," Spock calmly interrupted, swallowing the tiny part of him that still wanted to strangle the man again for what he'd said, "your actions were logical and necessary. I do not harbour any resentment. Your apologies are appreciated, however unnecessary."</p><p>The Captain took a deep breath, mindlessly running a hand through his hair again.</p><p>"Thank you, Spock," he conceded, the bravado and adrenaline completely gone.</p><p>"Thanks are-"</p><p>"Illogical, I know," he finished, looking back up with a wry smile.</p><p>He looked suddenly uncertain again, before seeking to gather his courage.</p><p>"Tushah nash-veh k'du, Commander," he said solemnly, in practiced Vulcan. He wasn't, to Spock's knowledge, a Vulcan speaker, which meant he'd taken the time to learn the correct condolence and pronunciation. Interesting.</p><p>"Thank you, Captain," he accepted, inclining his head slightly. </p><p>"Jim," he corrected, raising his hand to show the Vulcan salute.</p><p>Spock nodded, returned the salute, and continued to his quarters.</p>
<hr/><p>The number of considerate coincidences that followed Spock after this run in were almost certainly the work of one repentant Acting Captain.</p><p>After such an unprecedented disaster, the entire crew, but especially the young senior command staff, were working as hard as physically possible. Such a huge loss of personnel, combined with the vast amounts of damages to the ship, left every single officer working flat out for the first few days, regardless of rank, until the dust settled enough that regular shifts and sleeping schedules could safely resume for the vast majority of the staff. Spock was vaguely aware, from the rumours that always circulated on a starship, that the Acting Captain had firmly endeared himself to his crew by doing the work of ten men, from facing off with the irate Admirals, to attending to some of the numerous menial repairs in Engineering, to personally offering his condolences to the many Vulcan guests, to wading through seas of paperwork that should have been delegated to others, and more.</p><p>Spock had in fact not even seen the man since his apology in the corridors, as he had been assigned command of all duties regarding the hospitality of the Vulcan refugees, which kept him comfortably busy, and away from the bridge. He spent his shifts perfecting environmental controls, co-ordinating with the abrasive but competent new Chief Medical Officer in organising effective counseling, ensuring adequate living and recreational space away from the subdued (but still uncomfortably boisterous for any Vulcan) crew, and sourcing meditation equipment to help restore some semblance of peace and control to the shattered remainder of his people. It provided healing not only in the satisfaction of bringing some comfort to the grieving Vulcans, but also the incredibly valuable opportunity to enjoy some stimulating conversations with his some of the highly respected elders. And then of course, his father.</p><p>He'd been reluctant to initiate a conversation, as their fractured relationship left much to be desired, but to his suprise, the quiet interactions they shared, mostly discussing his mother, were without friction.</p><p>His time off duty coincided suspiciously with Lieutenant Uhura's, (and through his own curiosity getting the better of him, Spock easily found the duty rotas altered by the Captain to match his and Nyota's schedules). Though they grieved differently, her presence was far from unwelcome. She was a rare gift, someone with who understood and accepted his dual heritage. A reprieve from the sometimes blunt other humans.</p><p>There were other small acts that Spock traced back to the Acting Captain with increasing interest. Finding Farr-kahli and Bertakk soup, two of his favourite meals, painstakingly programmed into the replicators, and the city of ShiKahr on the holodeck. The meditation incense stocked up in the quietest rec room.</p><p>And though it was illogical for this man to run himself into the ground working triple shifts and facing the brunt of the Admirality's displeasure, Spock found that he could not bring himself to resent the man who had called out his deepest fears on the bridge that day, who was now compromising efficiency and his own physical health in his thoughtfulness for Spock's wellbeing. It went beyond what was required by senior officers, and even friends, the concern and care he was showing to a man who had, not long ago, marooned him on a remote and dangerous planet, and then violently assaulted him. To extend gestures of kindness after such a... difficult start to their acquaintance?</p><p>Maybe this was a man to whom he could give his loyalty. Time would tell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading, lots of love! Xxx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey again! This one's set pretty soon after Into Darkness, hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The doorbell to Nyota's apartment chimed with ridiculous cheer for this ungodly hour. Not that she'd been sleeping, (were any of them, so soon after the Khan Incident?).</p><p>And now this.</p><p>The comm had come in early in the morning. Nyota's grandmother, the woman who taught her to hold her head up high and made her believe that she could do anything, the woman who'd passed on a burning passion for languages to her before she could even ride a bike, the wonderful, kind, fiercely intelligent soul who Nyota had been as close to as her mother.</p><p>She'd passed peacefully, Nyota's sister had choked out through wrenching sobs, just in her sleep. There'd been no pain.</p><p>
  <em>"I wish you were here, Ny."</em>
</p><p>So did Nyota.</p><p>She'd waited to shed her own tears, instead channeling the ache inside of her into purpose, burying it until it could be felt properly. She'd stormed over to the Starfleet headquarters before the sun had even risen, and demanded compassionate leave. But the bastard of an Admiral she'd spoken to was still steadfastly stubborn in his determination to keep all ranking Enterprise officers in San Francisco until all debriefings were concluded, even though Nyota had finished giving all of her testimonies weeks ago and was now stupidly bored, on top of all the stress and grief she was working through.</p><p>Her grandmother's funeral was in two days. And instead of being there, Nyota was stuck in a shitty apartment, for the convenience of a couple of lazy Admirals.</p><p>Spock was in the other room, so deep in meditation that a train could hit him and he wouldn't notice. He'd been incredible, as gentle and patient as ever, but she understood that the strength of her emotions at this time was taxing for him, and that he'd need adequate meditation to keep himself sane.</p><p>Nyota rose from the floor to open the door to the late caller.</p><p>Before she could so much as see who it was, she'd been enveloped in a hug so warm and firm it brought tears back to her eyes. She inhaled deeply into the leather jacketed shoulder. Kirk.</p><p>He let go, and she stepped aside to let him in, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of something non-alcoholic. She didn't feel like getting drunk tonight.</p><p>They fell into a familiar rhythm, settling on the carpet in comfortable quiet. They'd become good friends after their trial-by-fire first mission, and their tradition of taking an evening each week to chat alongside a bottle of wine had continued even after they'd been grounded post-Khan.</p><p>He looked up, and even in the semi darkness she could see something deeply warm in his eyes.</p><p>"Tell me about her."</p><p>And so she did.</p><p>"She was everything I ever wanted to be. Other kids wanted to be... I don't know, pirates of explorers or princesses, but I wanted to be her.</p><p>"She grew up in the middle of nowhere, and as soon as she was old enough, she got jobs with the most different people you could find, learning their trade and their language, travelling half the Federation.</p><p>"When I got home from school as a kid, I'd sit at her knee and she'd teach me what they taught her, and then she'd tell me the stories of her adventures, the people she met and was changed by.</p><p>"I'd follow her everywhere, and copy everything she did, and she'd show me everything from how to win an argument to how to cook.</p><p>"She was so... alive, in everything she did. Always so unapologetically herself. Never afraid to speak up, to be the one to say the things nobody wanted to say.</p><p>"I-" she swallowed, as the lump in her throat threatened to stop her, "I could listen to her forever. She never ran out of stories. I wish I could hear her voice just one last time. It doesn't even feel real yet but I already miss her so much. I just-"</p><p>"She was always there, too. Not just all the formal stuff, though she was there for all that too, every spelling bee or debate, every graduation, prize ceremony, even those god awful school concerts.</p><p>"I mean that she was always available, even if one of us was on the other side of the continent at the time, she'd always be ready to answer my comm. Even if it wasn't about anything, she was never too busy for me, or anyone.</p><p>"And now, I won't even be there, for the one last time."</p><p>She took a moment to take a shuddering breath, as Jim looped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side.</p><p>"She sounds like you, Nyota," he said quietly, and then she really was crying, raw and wrenching and loud, the realization that the greatest inspiration in her life was no longer in her life, to laugh and talk and dance with her, gone somewhere Nyota couldn't call on her comm whenever she needed to. Somewhere she couldn't follow.</p><p>Jim's grip on her tightened, as she let all the guilt and grief that had been building up flood out in a powerful tsunami of pain.</p><p>Some time passed, as she poured out her aching heart to the soothing hand rubbing her back, and at some point they both leaned back to gaze out into the deep night sky dotted with shimmering stars, stretching behind the wide window on the wall. </p><p>Jim's comm beeped angrily. He looked at it, and then with an apologetic grimace at Nyota, went to take the call.</p><p>You'd think that after actually dying you'd get a bit of a break from the brass, but from the first day that Jim woke up, even though he could only keep his eyes open for a minute at a time, the Admirality had been banging on the door, constantly demanding statements and testimonies. Once he'd been released from hospital, Leonard couldn't hold them back any longer on medical grounds, and it seemed he'd barely had a moment to himself since. Case in point: he was being called at two in the morning on a Sunday.</p><p>She got up to get a glass of water and wash her face, giving him a brief pat on the shoulder. He smiled back at her as she pulled the bathroom door closed.</p><p>She leaned her forehead against the cool mirror, allowing herself a small smile at the sound of Jim chewing out whichever idiot was both unfortunate and stupid enough to be on the other side of the comm.</p><p>
  <em> "No, Admiral, what I said earlier stands. Stop being stubborn just for the sake of it. They'll be leaving whether you like it or not. Kirk out."</em>
</p><p>Nyota was not the type of person to cry easily, but when she needed the release, she took no shame in it. Yet another thing her grandmother had taught her: emotion is not a sign of weakness.</p><p>What she wouldn't give to hear her advice now, have her support. She'd know exactly what to say to make the crushing pain better. But that was the irony of it.</p><p>She could almost see her now in her mind, her twinkling eyes, bright smile, vibrant technicolour headscarf.</p><p>She'd do what her grandmother would have wanted her to do. She'd live, so bravely and brightly, and love every second of it.</p>
<hr/><p>"Nyota, please awaken,"</p><p>Spock was leaning above her, lit up in his black 'Fleet-issued civvies by the early morning sun.</p><p>"There is a man outside with a shuttle requesting your presence,"</p><p>"What?" She blinked, pushing back the sheets to swing her legs off the bed.</p><p>"I do not know, Nyota, he wishes to speak to you."</p><p>Curious, Nyota dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail without delay, and stepped out into the street with Spock at her side.</p><p>There was a man standing with his back to her in front of a small shuttlecraft, humming quietly. He turned to them with a cheery smile at the sound of the door.</p><p>"Lieutenant Uhura?"</p><p>"Yes," she said with a nod.</p><p>"I was asked to pick you and Commander Spock up this morning for a high priority transport to..." he consulted his padd, "Kitui, Kenya. Do you need a minute to pack?"</p><p>With a small smile, she went to grab a bag.</p>
<hr/><p>It was a tough way to be reunited with her family. None of them could get away to see her while she was confined to the city, so it had truly been years since she'd seen them face to face. It was painful and strange not to receive a kiss on the cheek from her grandmother the second she stepped over the threshold of the house, but seeing her mother and brother and sister helped her draw upon the strength of being together.</p><p>The funeral was a bittersweet affair. In her will, she'd ever optimistically asked for a celebration of her life, not a mourning if her death, with funny stories and singing. Nyota was grateful that the duet she sang with her sister came before the stories, because afterwards she was both laughing and sobbing too hard to speak. Thhelove this woman had inspired in all the people she met was so overwhelmingly beautiful.</p><p>Nyota got a whole week with her family before the smiley man with the shuttle returned. Just as she was saying her last goodbyes, her mother pulled her aside.</p><p>"You made her so proud, Nyota," she said, pressing a kiss into Nyota's forehead she welled up again, "go and continue to do so."</p><p>She'd like to think that she did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading! Lots of love! Xxx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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